


Apps, M4s and the General's Daughter

by MillysarusRex



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28845924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillysarusRex/pseuds/MillysarusRex
Summary: Master Sargent Gendry Waters is less than excited when he gets stuck working with the newest addition to his Ranger unit. Sargent Stark is rude, arrogant, and a huge pain in the ass. If only she could be more like DanceswithWolves, his online penpal. She's sweet, hilarious and every guy's dream. Too bad she's just a stranger.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 31
Kudos: 76





	1. Gendry

**Author's Note:**

> I stayed up super late reading cheesy romance novels and came across "The Lieutenants' Online Love" by Caro Carson, and couldn't help but picture Arya and Gendry as the seemingly doomed lovers. Plus, it was just too cute of a story to pass up.

The familiar buzz of his cell phone going off in his pocket pulled Gendry from where he’d been concentrating on Captain Tarth’s detailed explanation of the latest news for the garrison. With a quick glance around the room to look for prying eyes, he pulled the black iPhone out from his fatigues before hiding it carefully under the table.

**How do you tell if a vampire is sick?**

A loud snort erupted from his nose before he could stop it, and Gendry quickly tried to cover it with a cough as several eyes turned to him. Luckily, Captain Tarth only spared him a brief look before continuing on about the latest changes on post. He should be listening, Dondarrion would tear his ass apart if he got caught playing on his phone instead of paying attention during their usual company meeting, however he couldn’t help it.

_She_ had texted him.

The smart, funny, incredibly attractive girl he had met on a virtual penpal site. Okay, so he didn’t know for sure if she was attractive. They hadn’t shared pictures, not even real names. The gist of the site was to link up people from all around without the risk of users attempting to utilize it as a hook-up service. Gendry had joined one night while deployed, after yet another friend complained about whatever his girlfriend had said over the phone. He wanted to hit them, tell them how lucky they were. What he would give to have someone to talk to, someone who cared enough about him to bitch him out for not calling home enough.

But he didn’t have that. Not a girlfriend, not a single person, friend or family, at home to call. So, he’d searched online penpal forums and been matched with her. _DanceswithWolves_. Her picture fittingly a large grey and white wolf.

**Michael Blake or Kevin Costner?** He’d messaged her. And from there, started the most interesting relationship of his life. If you could call an online correspondence with a stranger a _relationship_.

_**Got me there. How?** _

A few seconds passed before his phone buzzed again.

**By how much he is coffin.**

This time, he stifled his laugh into his fist.

_**Jokes today, huh. You almost got me in trouble. I’m in a meeting at work.** _

He glanced back up at the Captain as she leaned against her desk. She was describing changes to the company, people leaving, people coming. Gendry was used to it. Being in the army meant moving frequently, and never working with the same people for too long. And being a Ranger meant even less time state-side. But this had been his longest assignment yet. He’d been stationed at Fort Blackwater for nearly five months. Usually, he’d be back out on deployment by now, but second battalion had been assigned out instead of fourth. Gendry knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was happy to be home for as long as possible. Especially since it meant he had more than enough time to spend talking with _DanceswithWolves_.

He glanced down at his phone again, staring at the little text bubble that framed her words on the app. Her response was witty, just as always.

**That’s what you get for looking at your phone during work.**

He must have been smiling like a dork, because he felt curious eyes staring at him. Gendry turned to fix his neighbor with a pointed glare. Anguy, a fellow Ranger, leaned in close and whispered, “Let me guess. Mystery girl just said something else captivating.”

Not for the first time, Gendry found himself regretting sharing about his enigmatic penpal. He had been drunk at the time and uncharacteristically talkative. He had described their colloquy as captivating that night, as well as describing way too many things he liked about her, and the guys wouldn’t let him live it down.

Anguy, particularly, loved to bring her up.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention?” Gendry growled, turning back to the front of the room where Captain Tarth had started explaining the new assignments. Besides, he didn’t need to look at Anguy to know there was mirth shining in his eyes.

“You’re one to talk. I always know she’s on your mind ‘cause you’re face gets that dumb look – oof.” Gendry kicked him hard under the table.

“Master Sargent Waters, Staff Sargent Archer. Is there something you boys have to share?” Captain Tarth was staring at them now, an eyebrow raised.

“No, ma’am!” Both Gendry and Anguy replied quickly.

“Good, then let’s stop the idle chit chat. As I was saying,” Captain Tarth returned to the clipboard she was holding and Gendry shoved his phone back in his pocket. He could talk to Dances later. It wouldn’t do anyone any favors if he missed out on their weekly virtual movie date because he had to pull extra duty.

Gendry listened as the Captain reported the newest additions to the garrison. A few new officers, a handful of NCOs, even an additional Ranger was being assigned to their unit.

“I expect you boys to treat her with respect, you hear?” Sargent Major Dondarrion added in his gruff voice. Gendry sat up. The newest Ranger was a her? Now, _that_ was interesting. It wasn’t as if there weren’t any women in the Rangers. Hell, Captain Tarth was a Ranger herself, but it was rare. So rare that most of the men in the room started whispering in disbelief.

As usual, Captain Tarth chided the soldiers for their childish behavior. At six foot three, the woman was every bit what you’d expect of an Army Ranger. Strong, muscled and serious. Having been deployed with the Captain more than once, Gendry could confirm that the woman was a _badass_. Surely, the new Ranger would be the same. For that, Gendry was grateful. It never hurt to have another badass on the team.

“Sargant Stark will be taking on Sargent Payne’s position.” Dondarrion added with a pointed look at Gendry. “I expect you to show Sargant Stark the ropes.” Gendry nodded in response. Payne had been his partner. So, the new Ranger was going to be a Weapons Sargent.

Payne had been a cool dude, if not a little soft. But Gendry was good at his job, and good at making sure others could do theirs as well. It was part of what put him on path to being promoted to Special Forces Warrant Officer.

Training the newbie would be no sweat.

When Captain Tarth released them, Gendry’s other friends, Lem, Jack and Tom rushed to meet them at the door.

“A chick, huh? Wonder what that’s going to be like?” Lem, nicknamed Lemoncloak due to having grown up on a lemon farm, whistled low as they made their way out of the building. In almost unison, the five boys pulled their berets out of their back pockets and shoved them on their heads.

“A hundred bucks she’s a carbon copy of the Captain. How many women besides someone like her could get through SERE school?” Tom “Sevenstrings” snorted.

Gendry rolled his eyes. Women had been in combat positions for years now, and yet some of the men still couldn’t help it.

“I hear she’s a General’s daughter.” Jack-Be-Lucky added, making Tom chortle.

“That explains a lot.”

Gendry smacked him in the arm. “Don’t let the Captain hear you talk like that. You just got off extra PT.” Captain Tarth was no joke when it came to people questioning women’s place in special forces.

Tom shrugged indifferently. “Whatever. She’s probably a snob. Some daddy’s girl who wanted to become an Army Ranger. Probably got preferential treatment.”

“Come on,” Gendry said sincerely, “she can’t be that bad. Female Rangers have to go through the same bullshit we did.”

Tom shook his head. “All I’m saying is, how many legacies do you know who are down-to-Earth? Everyone who’s got a daddy in the brigade seems to have a bit of a chip on their shoulder, and that’s a fact.”

Gendry shook his head, but even he knew that Tom’s words held some truth. Every now and then some officer’s kid would come around and think he was hot shit. Usually, he’d be some overconfident college kid or some starry-eyed youth who thought they had it Easy Street since daddy was in Command. It even happened in Ranger school. Most of the time, they washed out. 

“Either way, come Monday Waters will find out,” Anguy mused, smirking at Gendry. “Can’t wait to hear all the gorey details.”


	2. Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews! I'm really enjoying writing this story. Hope you guys enjoy!

**ARYA**

“Yes, mom, I’m all settled in.” Arya Stark sighed into her phone, wedged between her ear and shoulder as she dug through one of the few remaining boxes for a pot. She rolled her eyes as her mother babbled on the other end of the line. “ _No,_ mom, I’m not just eating food at the canteen. I’m making myself soup tonight!”

Well, she would be making herself some instant ramen, but her mother didn’t need to know that. Catelyn Stark would have a near coronary if she knew that Arya had been surviving off canteen food and cheap instant noodles, mother hen that she was. Frustrating. Although, thinking of her near empty kitchen, Arya had to admit that she did miss her mother’s home cooking.

“I worry about you, Arya,” her mother was saying, stress evident in her stern voice. “You’re far away and all alone.” _Ridiculous_. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been on her own before. And besides…

“Mom. I’m in the Army. I don’t ever remember you doing this when Robb, Jon or Bran left.”

“That’s different. You’re different.”

_You’re a girl_ , she meant. Arya inwardly groaned. It seemed no matter what she did, her parents would always see her as their little daughter. Little Arya Underfoot.

The argument died in her throat. She’d had this fight with her mother ever since she went off to basic training six years ago. Her mother had been none too pleased when Arya had announced it, but not surprised. The real anger came when she announced her decision to try for Ranger school. Catelyn Stark could only handle so much.

Even her dad, who was always so supportive, had taken the news with weary eyes. It wasn’t as if _he_ was worried about her losing all trace of femininity. _He_ just didn’t think she’d make it. She knew as much without even asking. Ranger school was hard. It was elite. A big-boys club. Not a place for little girls.

Well, Arya had shown them.

Mood soured; Arya itched to get off the phone. The familiar buzzing of her phone dying was the perfect excuse. “I’ll be fine, mom. But listen, I’ve got to go. My phone is dying.”

Catelyn tried to argue but eventually relented. Arguing with Arya was never productive for anyone, not if you wanted to win.

She made her way to her bedroom where she had set up her phone charger by her bed and hooked it up. Out of the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. The green fatigues that were delicately hung on her closet door. She walked over to them and ran her finger across the patch that adorned the right shoulder.

_RANGER_.

How was it that she had made it into one of the most elite careers in the world and her parents _still_ thought she was utterly hopeless?

She had always been different. A difficult child at times, and definitely tomboyish. She knew she was different from her sister. Sansa was always the perfect little lady. Ivy league college, prestigious law school, top tier law firm. She even had the fancy husband and baby. Sansa had spent the past summer traveling overseas with her picture-perfect family, dining in fancy restaurants you only saw on Instagram.

_Arya_ had spent the past summer elbow deep in swamp in the Neck and then covered in inches of dirt and sand in Dorne for Swamp Phase and Desert Phase. She tried to think of her pretty sister in Army greens, pristine face coated in filth. At least that made her laugh.

A soft howl tore her from her reverie and she grinned. She knew that ringtone. _He_ had texted her.

_Motorhead87_ , her sweet, sweet penpal. An uncharacteristic girlish giggle escaped her mouth as she sat on her bed and clicked on her phone.

**_Had a dream about vampire nurses last night. All your fault._**

Arya grinned.

**Sounds like the next big CW hit. Were they at least hot?**

It barely took a second for him to respond. **_Can’t remember but one of them did sparkle. Again, all your fault._**

**Hey, of all the vampire stuff we’ve watched, its not my fault you dreamt about Twilight. Could have been Blade or Underworld or True Blood. Plenty of hotties in that.**

**_Mmm, Sookie_** **.** A few pulsating dots indicated that he was still texting. **_Is it bad that I just said that out loud? Southern accent and all_.**

Arya’s smile widened at the thought of her mystery guy with a southern drawl. She didn’t know much about him, not even where he was from, least of all the sound of his voice. But, still. She bet a Southern drawl on him would be sexy.

**What I wouldn’t give to hear a guy say my name like Bill does.**

There was a pause again, the dots dancing across the screen before disappearing, and popping up again.

**_What_ ** **I _wouldn’t give, either._**

She laughed loudly, the same way she had been ever since she and _Motorhead_ had started correspondence. In her twenty-six years, she had never met someone who made her laugh so hard. She had never met someone who made her feel so… _womanly_? The thought was laughable. Arya -muscley, flat chested, tomboyish Arya, who always felt more at ease with her brothers and their friends than her sister – feeling overly romantic about some guy. Her brother, Robb’s, best friend Theon would have a field day with that one.

**_How’s the new crib?_ **

Arya smiled. It was too hard not to like _Motorhead_. He was always so thoughtful, always so inquisitive without being nosy.

**Good. Almost completely unpacked. Just had a conversation with my mother though – she still can’t seem to let go of the fact that I’m all grown up and out on my own. Even though it’s been this way for years.** She purposefully left out the part where she had been away in the Army for years. They had kept those details of their life strictly private. Most of the time, it gave their relationship a fun advantage, she could be one hundred percent herself without worrying what someone might think. Having a dad who was a General and two brothers who had made lucrative careers as Army officers themselves, it was hard to have some independence. Everywhere she went, she either ran into one of them or at least someone they knew. Hell, even in basic training, when they’d learn about the most successful military leaders, more than one Stark was named. _That_ had made basic training _super_ fun. _Not._

Yes, it was nice to have someone only know her for her personality alone. But there were times where she wished she could tell him. Despite all the things she didn’t know, she honestly felt like no one knew the real Arya Stark better than this mysterious guy. She tried desperately to put together an image of him through what she knew. His name, _Motorhead87_ meant that he might work with cars, or at least really like them. He loved action films that centered around big explosions and secretly enjoyed vampire romances. He usually worked early in the morning, so he often fell asleep early in the evenings - though he always tired to make a valiant effort to stay up late and chat with her when she needed it.

But there were no other details. No hair or eye color, no suggestions of height or voice or anything. Luckily, she had a very good imagination, and she often laid in bed thinking about what he could look like. The man in her head was tall, dark and handsome, looking suspiciously like Henry Cavill.

At the end of the day, she told herself it didn’t matter _what_ he looked like. He checked off every single one of the boxes she had in her head for the perfect guy. And though she wouldn’t dare tell a single soul about it, lest she be mocked until the end of times, she was still a girl. All girls had their dream guy.

**_Sounds like a typical mom. If it’s any consolation, my sister is always hounding me. Only one year older and she acts like I’m her kid._ **

There was another detail. He was one of two children. His mother died when he was small and his father was out of the picture. She felt guilty. Here she was complaining about her family when his was so splintered.

**Sorry. I must sound super ungrateful. Your sister sounds like mine.** She almost typed Sansa. **Mine likes to boss me around.**

**_Sounds like our sisters would be good friends. What’s your sister’s favorite complaint? Mine is my love life. She’s always trying to fix me up with one of her friends._ **

Something akin to jealously twisted in her stomach. It was ridiculous, she knew. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend. This stranger didn’t owe her anything. But still – the idea that he might one day go out and meet some girl, putting an end to this… _whatever_ it was – well, it didn’t quite sit well with her.

She must have taken too long to respond because his next message buzzed her phone. **_It never works out, btw. They usually aren’t my type._**

And _that_ made her entirely _too_ happy.

_Definitely ridiculous._

**Not a single one? You must be a hard guy to please** , she joked, though she was not-so-secretly over the moon that he’d said that.

**_Not hard to please, just…_** The dots blinked at her for a long moment and she found she had been holding her breath before the next message came. **_I have a type_.**

She smiled, her heart fluttering foolishly in her chest. If only her sister and mother could see her now, giggling girlishly over some silly text message.

**Let me guess…long legs, blond hair, big boobs? I have four brothers – I’ve heard this before.**

She hoped he’d see that as impish banter and not take offense. Sometimes things got lost in translation over text message.

**_That’s awfully stereotypical of you. I’ll have you know that I’m more into brunettes. And I’m more of a butt guy._ **

She snorted but felt her heart jump into overdrive. A hand absentmindedly went to her own brown hair, still wet from her shower. She wondered what he would think of her. Brown hair, skin lightly tanned from one-too-many days sitting in the sun out in the field. Would he find her pretty? She twisted around. Her butt wasn’t _too_ bad. Not exactly Kim K, but definitely not flat.

**_Oh no. I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I? Are you blonde and big chested, Dances?_ **

Arya laughed. **No. Just another brunette happy to hear that at least one person appreciates us.**

A longer pause. A long, long pause.

**_Damn. I’m glad there’s some anonymity to this. You’re already easily my dream girl. I don’t think I’d be able to handle myself knowing you’re also a pretty brunette._ **

Her heart, which had been beating heavily in her chest, thudded louder and her body warmed. Lately, _Motorhead_ had said things like that. Flirty things. _Sexy_ things.

Was it possible to be so turned on by a measly text message?

Not knowing how to respond to that, Arya stuck with what she knew. Sarcasm and humor.

**For all you know, I could be some forty-something year old living in my mother’s basement, so keep it in your pants.**

She took a deep breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, trying to still her racing heart. She wanted to tell him how many times she’d dreamt of him, how many nights she’d laid in bed imagining what it would be like to be sharing these laughs with the only distance being enough space to breathe. But she couldn’t tell him _that_.

**_Nice try. You haven’t lived with your mother for years, remember?_ **

Ugh. She was a goner.

She’d finished up her pathetic excuse for a dinner and was lounging on the couch when the message came through.

**_Hey, Dances. Sorry to cut this short but I’m being wrangled for a boys night. I’d skip it but if I bail again, I’ll never hear the end of it._ **

She frowned. Right. He may have been showering her with compliments all day but he was still a guy. A _single_ guy. And it was Friday night. Of course, he’d want to go out with his friends. She felt a pang of loneliness then. She had just moved to King’s Landing and didn’t know a soul. All of her friends lived up North or across the Narrow Sea. She knew she’d probably make friends once she started working, but for now…It hadn’t been so lonely when _Motorhead_ was around to chat.

**Lucky. I wish I had a friend out here.**

**_Well, why not start tonight? A girl like you is bound to have no trouble making friends._ **

Arya stared at his phone. He was right. It had always been easy for her to make friends. And with work starting on Monday, this was probably the perfect time to cut loose and have one last hurrah before things got back down to the grind.

**Okay. Sounds like a deal. I’ll let you know how it goes – and I can’t wait to hear all the trouble you get up to on ‘boys night’.**

***

She drove out to a bar far enough from base that she wouldn’t have to worry about running into too many officers. It probably wouldn’t bode well to be drunk as a skunk and risk meeting one of the guys she’d be taking orders from come Monday morning. _The Forge_ was a good old-fashioned honkytonk alongside a main road leading into the city. The parking lot was full and people could be heard laughing and carrying on from the side street where she’d finally found a spot to park. Loud music was blaring from an old, rusty looking juke box when she made her way through the door. The people inside were just as colorful as the bar itself. Bikers and cowboy-looking boys with boots and Levis moved around shooting the shit and flirting with girls in too-short shorts and lowcut tops. The place smelt of spilled beer and cigarette smoke. Her mother and sister would have a coronary if they saw her in a place like this.

It was _awesome_.

It took some work, but eventually she squeezed her way to the front of the bar. The wall behind it was filled to the brim with liquor, the finest sitting pretty on the top while the usual – Jack, Bacardi, Jagermeister sat within reaching distance. Along the bar were lines of taps, many popular beers and a few local ones she didn’t recognize. Three bartenders were scurrying around one another, helping the thick mob of customers requesting drinks. Arya stood patiently. She was in no rush.

She watched the crowd with fascination. Everyone looked to be having a grand old time, laughing and getting drunk with their friends. A few young people looked to be out on dates, holding hands and kissing each other under the dim yellow lighting. Another pang of loneliness hit her. She wasn’t the sentimental type, nor the jealous type. But even she could admit to how lonely it felt being all alone in a new town.

Soon, a pretty black-haired bartender made her way over to where Arya stood. “What can I get you, sweetheart?”

Usually, Arya couldn’t stand being called sweetheart. She’d heard it one too many times from old men or cocky boys who couldn’t believe that some girl had the audacity to try and be a Ranger. But in the bartender’s sweet southern drawl, it was actually rather endearing.

It made her think about _Motorhead_ ’s comment, which made her smile.

“An Old Ezra. Single. Neat.”

As the bartender began prepping her drink, Arya couldn’t help but admire her. She was tall with wide hips and an ample bosom nearly spilling from her top. Arya suspected it was on purpose. The girl must have made a killing on tips given the way the male patrons were eyeing her. Her long eyelashes and heart shaped face drew everyone in. She was easily the prettiest girl Arya had ever met.

She reminded her of Sansa, all curvaceous and womanly. Only, this bartender had an obvious wild streak in her that Sansa never possessed. A certain wildness that was necessary to work in an establishment like this.

“Here you go, solider.” The bartender said, placing down her drink. Arya blinked in surprise.

“How’d you know I was Army?” She wasn’t wearing dog tags or anything distinctive.

The bartender chuckled. “Darlin’, working in a place like this, you get to know a solider when you see one. Plus, my bonehead brother is Army. Ya’ll just have that look about ya.”

Arya smiled back. “You’re good. My brothers are Army, too. My whole family is. Well, expect for my mother and sister. I’m the only in girl the family to join.”

The bartender gave her a once over and an appreciative nod. “You look the type to stick it to the boys. Showin’ them they ain’t all hot shit, huh? Wish you could show my brother and his crew. Mangey bunch of misfits they are, thinking they’re oh-so-cool cause they wear a uniform. _Puh-lease_.”

Arya laughed. She liked this bartender. “I’m Arya.”

The bartender took her outstretched hand. “Bella. Now, I hate to chat and run, but this mob ain’t gonna feed itself. Or _drink_ itself? I can never quite figure that one out.”

Arya chuckled and raised her glass. “It made sense to me.” As she reached in her purse for her debit card, Bella made a showy wave of her hand.

“It’s on me. Us badass girls gotta stick together, yanno?”

Arya’s grin widened. “ _Hooah_.” After thanking her for the drink, Arya slithered out of the crowd to give someone else her spot at the bar. Besides, she wanted to check this place out. There was a pool table in one corner of the room with a few dart boards hanging on the wall. In another corner there was a makeshift dance floor where several people had congregated to boogie to the country song playing on the juke box. A dozen portraits hung on the wall of various celebrities who’d frequented the bar at some time or another. She found an empty spot near the bathrooms where she could sit and people watch.

And what a crowd to watch. Everyone seemed to be getting litty-city tonight. Beer was flowing freely and more than one group seemed to be taking shots as they laughed with their friends and lovers. It reminded her of the local bars outside of Oldtown where she’d gone to Advanced Individual Training – AIT. On their free weekends, she would go with her friends and have a drink, getting drunk and betting on which of the guys could pick up one of the girls who were pretending not to notice them. _Yeah right_. Girls at bars like that were there for only one thing – to snag a man in uniform.

_This_ bar, however, seemed different. Everyone seemed to blend in together, locals who were out for a fun night after a long work week. She made up stories for each of the passing patrons. The older woman in black riding leathers was once a teacher, who found her love for motorcycles and quit on the spot one day to take her life on the road. Then there was the college age looking guy who had come here looking for a lady after learning his high school sweetheart had dumped him for her professor.

She was trying to come up with a story for the middle-aged man wearing a Hawaiian shirt when suddenly, she lurched forward, her near empty drink spilling onto the floor. She spun around, fully ready to tell off the asshole who ran into her when her eyes met with blue and the words died in her throat. Standing before her was hands down the best-looking man she’d ever seen in her life. He was tall, broad shouldered, _manly_. Attached to one of those broad shoulders was another man, the one who’d smacked into her.

“Oh, shit,” ol’ blue eyes said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Wasn’t watching where we were goin’.” There it was again. That thick, knee-weakening southern drawl. If she had been another girl, she might have fainted right then and there.

But she wasn’t another girl. She was Arya Stark. A hardcore badass who wasn’t about to swoon over some guy. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t flirt.

“I’ll give you a pass, considering the heavy bearing load you’ve got there.”

“Hey!” his friend shouted in defense before giving her a second look. His eyes widened and he straightened the best he could, considering he looked drunk as a skunk. “Well, _hellooo._ ”

Arya hid her snort. She knew she didn’t have show stopping looks like Sansa or Bella the bartender, but she knew what _that_ look meant. She’d seen it on enough guys faces in the Army. That obvious interest, that fascination. Her top was cut low enough to show off what little cleavage she had and the guy seemed fixated on that.

“Idiot,” the blue eyed one muttered loud enough for her to hear but clearly not catching his friend’s attention. “Sorry again about him. I’m about to toss his ass in the truck and take him home before he gets himself thrown out.” He grinned at her, flashing pretty white teeth. He had a nice smile. A _really_ nice smile.

“Seeing how he knocked over my drink, I might throw his ass out myself.” She waved her empty glass. Blue eyes’ forehead wrinkled in concern.

“Fuck, let me go drop him off with the guys and I’ll get you another one.”

She should have said no. She’d almost finished her drink anyway and it wasn’t smart to get a drink from a stranger. But one look at those ocean blue eyes and the way his black t-shirt clung to impressive muscles had her nodding her head

“I’ll take you up on that.”

She tried to ignore the odd sting of guilt that pooled in her stomach. What did she have to feel guilty about? For all she knew, _Motorhead_ was out at some bar, flirting with some busty bartender like Bella. She didn’t owe anyone anything.

The guy led her to the opposite side of the bar where three other guys were huddled around a high top. Each one of them looked up at her in interest as she came into view.

“Take this one.” Blue eyes said, roughly dropping the drunk guy in an empty seat. “He’s stumbling around knocking into everyone.”

One guy with shaggy blond hair grinned at them, but his eyes were fixed on her. “Even black out drunk, Lemoncloak can’t help but piss off the ladies, huh?”

Arya laughed. Was Lemoncloak some kind of weird D&D nickname? But if these guys were D&D nerds, they were the most _fit_ D&D nerds she’d ever seen. Like, _Joe Manganiello is hella muscular but loves to play Dungeons and Dragons_ – fit.

“If he’s this good at it wasted, I’d hate to see what he does sober.”

This made the group of guys bark in laughter.

The blond one stood up and offered his hand. “I like this girl. The name is Anguy.”

Arya took his and gave her name.

Another guy, with similar dark hair to blue eyes (but not nearly as attractive), shook her hand as well. “Jack.”

There was also Tom and the drunk guy’s real name was apparently Lem. That left only one guy. She turned to smile at blue eyes.

“Gendry,” he grinned, giving her a firm handshake and was it just her or was there a spark there?

Gendry didn’t seem to notice but his smile broadened and he jammed his thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s go get you that drink, Arya.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I apologize if my information isn't completely accurate when it comes to Army Rangers. I did my research but...oh well. They're in Westeros, though, so I figured some liberties were allowed lol


End file.
